


Demitasse

by Goodchampagneandprivateplanes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee Shops, M/M, Minor Violence, Punching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodchampagneandprivateplanes/pseuds/Goodchampagneandprivateplanes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it all started with a scribbled phone number on the back of a receipt at a cafe, there's no knowing where it will end.</p><p>Or, where Louis becomes Harry's regular customer at the cafe he works at, and they realized they have more in common than the coffee shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demitasse

For most normal human beings, waking up before 8am during winter break evokes a feeling similar to that of getting teeth pulled. However, the alarm clock buzzing at 6:45 in the morning has become habit for Harry Styles. His mornings always run the same every day; he wakes up at 6:45 sharp, brushes he teeth, goes for a 15 minute run, takes a quick shower, and then heads of to work. Today wasn’t much different.

Harry pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and sighed as he threw his car in park and pulled the keys out of the engine. It was his fifth shift in five days and his nerves were wearing thin at this point after dealing with shitty customers and bitchy managers. The only thing keeping him semi-composed at this point was the cigarette pack in his back pocket, along with the one lit in between his lips. 

He stepped out of his too-small car, spit out the cigarette and stepped it out on the pavement. Looking up, he saw his manager get out of his car and glare up at him. He tied his apron around his waist, slid the notepad into his middle pocket, and did his best to ignore the omnipresence of his manager’s eyes on him.

“Nice to see you on time today, Styles.”

Somehow, he just has to make it through this breakfast rush.

Five hours into his six hour shift, 35 tables were completed and Harry managed to somehow get $100 in tips. For some odd reason, Monday mornings were busiest at the café he worked at. The café is about a step and a half above a Starbucks, and about a dozen steps down from a normal “café” since the only things on the menu were breakfast sandwiches and coffees. The restaurant is settled next to the train station, which lead directly into New York City, so Harry always speculated it was due to the commuters needing their coffee a bit more on a Monday morning than any other morning, but his coworkers always laughed about that idea and said he was stupid for even thinking about it in that much detail. 

The breakfast rush died down significantly after 11am and Harry sat in the back on an upside down milk crate, hoping he wouldn’t get sat again for the next hour. He always opens up the shop and somehow, he ends up staying later than those that come in two hours after him. It’s just how his luck goes. At this point, his feet are throbbing, his lips crave another cigarette between them, and his brain is about ready to shut down. All he needed to do was to sit down for five minutes and grab a quick bite to eat, but of course, he’s interrupted.

“Styles, I sat you. After this table is finished, adios,” his manager stated. Harry rolled his eyes, which earned a snicker from one of his coworkers, Liam. Liam and Harry actually met in college and lived together off campus during classes. Harry started working at the café three years ago and got Liam the job this summer, and Liam did not disappoint him or his manager. In fact, getting Liam to serve actually got him on his boss’s good side since he loved Liam’s work ethic.

Harry shot Liam a glare and nonchalantly flipped him off as he exited the kitchen to go serve his last table. 

He walked up to his last table, which was a single young man sitting alone. Harry groaned under his breath; single people are the worst types of customers because they don’t tip much since their bill is never too high, and they usually sit there forever reading the newspaper or texting. 

“Good morning, I’m Harry and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I get you started with something to drink?” Harry asked, putting on his fake smile and placing down a beverage napkin on the table.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll take some coffee. Uh, light with milk and sugar,” he replied, without even looking up from the menu. Harry turned on his heel and immediately dropped his smile, realizing that now, he has to go fresh coffee because all of the pots are sitting on the counter empty. Well, that’ll be an extra five minutes he’ll be staying now.

As soon as the coffee finished brewing, Harry went back and took the rest of the order – nothing too out of the ordinary for the café, just a bacon, egg, and cheese on a well-toasted bagel with hash browns. Ten minutes later, the food was out to the customer, and Harry was just cleaning up the back to get out of the place sooner. 

“Styles, why isn’t your table cleared off?” his manager said as he popped his head around the corner of the kitchen.

“I just gave him his bagel like maybe five minutes ago. Chill, I’m sure he’s fine,” Harry snapped. 

“Drop the attitude; you’re almost done. Just do your job, Styles.”

Once his manager left, he looked back to Liam, laughed and rolled his eyes. Harry checked on his table, and told the customer to pay up at the front desk if he wants to pay on his card or if he needs change. He went back to the kitchen, did one last wipe-down of the counters and made five more pots of coffee for the impending lunch rush, which he would not be part of. 

“I’ll see you at the house, Li,” Harry said as he grabbed his keys and rushed to clock out. He grabbed his tip from the table he just served on and noticed something off. The tip was folded inside of the receipt and on the outside, the customer had written, “Cheer up, buttercup” with a heart and his name – Louis. Inside, there was a fifty dollar bill and a phone number. Harry immediately turned bright red, and flipped the receipt around, just to be greeted with the “Cheer up, buttercup” message he originally read. He slipped the $50 into his pocket with the rest of his tips and stared at the phone number for a minute. What does he do with this? He’s never gotten a phone number in all of his years of working here; in fact, he’s never even gotten a tip over $20 here. He stood there, astonished, for a minute before Liam rounded the corner and gently smacked Harry’s back. 

“Guess who just got told he can go home?” Liam said happily. Harry didn’t reply to Liam’s question. Liam waited a minute before answering his own question. “Uh, well the answer is me. I’ll drive us home if you want.”

Harry didn’t reply for a minute, again. Then turned around and looked at Liam.

“What do I do with this?” he finally asked, waving the phone number around in the air for Liam to see.

“Ooh, looks like someone likes you, Harry. That’s something new,” Liam teased. Harry quickly smacked the back of his head. Harry pulled out his phone, typed in the number, and saved the contact under Customer – Louis.

It was two weeks before Harry saw Louis again.

Like the first time he met Louis, his manager came into the kitchen, rudely interrupted Harry from his peaceful sit on the upside down milk carton, and told him to go take care of his last table for the day. Liam wasn’t at work today; it was his day off, and Harry did not get along with most of the female staff, so he had an all-around boring day today, barely making $60 so far. He stepped into the dining room, looked at the table he was sat and retreated back into the kitchen.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, not loud enough for anyone else to hear. He never texted or called Louis back and he kind of hoped he never would see him again. If Liam was here, he would have just served on him for Harry, but none of the other servers on would ever do such a thing for Harry. He kicked the bottom of the beverage machine and groaned, knowing he had to go face him now. Harry just hoped that Louis forgot that he was his server last time and prayed not to be recognized.

Of course, with Harry’s luck, that was not the case. Louis glanced up and saw Harry coming toward him and smiled. Harry internally sighed and figured to just roll with it, hoping he would just get a better tip in the end.

“Coffee light with milk and sugar?” Harry asked as he put the beverage napkin down on Louis’ table.

“Someone’s in a better mood,” Louis replied, smiling. Harry just stood at the end of the table, almost awkwardly, since he did not get an answer to his question.

“Coff–” Harry started asking, before Louis cut him off.

“Yes, sounds perfect. And a bacon, egg, and cheese on a well done toasted bagel,” Louis replied.

“Sounds like someone is in the same mood as last time,” Harry replied quickly before turning around to punch in the order. He missed Louis smirk at his reply, and Louis missed the reddening of Harry’s cheeks as he turned around.

Harry returned with Louis’ coffee after a few minutes.

“It’s going to be a few minutes, the kitchen is kind of backed up,” Harry said, apologetically.

“More time to spend with you. I don’t mind,” Louis said. He took a long sip of his coffee before Harry replied

“Yeah, well—” 

“Sit down, will you?” Louis said, looking up at him. Harry’s manager never cared if servers sit with the customers and chat, especially if they weren’t busy.

“Well, my manager might not want me to,” Harry said, trying to get out of the conversation he was going to have with a stranger who had given him a $50 tip two weeks ago.

“Then I’ll tell him it was my fault or something. Sit,” Louis insisted. Harry sighed and sat across from him hesitantly. Louis watched him, again, taking a long sip out of his coffee. They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. 

“I’m Louis,” Louis finally said, breaking the silence.

“Harry.”

“I know.” 

With that comment, Harry was thrilled to hear the service bell in the back, followed by his name being called. He excused himself from the table, grabbed the food and brought it back to Louis’ table, not sitting back down. He made sure everything looked okay, but before he was able to escape from Louis, he said something.

"I was thirteen when I told my family I was gay.”

That’s all he said; that’s all he needed to say. Harry closed his eyes and walked away from Louis. He was not going to go through his life story and tell his coming out story to a complete stranger. He dropped off the check ten minutes later, but when he checked on Louis’ table twenty minutes later, he was still sitting there.

“I’m waiting.”

"You’re not getting a story from me. I don’t even know you,” Harry said gently, not wanting to get angry with him. Louis actually seemed, for the most part, nice.

“I don’t want the story.”

“Sixteen.”

Louis simply nodded. He looked at Harry for a moment, waiting for Harry to tell him more, but Harry never opened his mouth again.

“When are you working again?” Louis questioned.

“Not sure yet. Schedule’s not out for the rest of the week,” Harry lied.

“Bullshit. Today’s Tuesday. You know when your next shift is.”

“Tomorrow,” Harry sighed, “But don’t become my regular.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.”

Louis slid out of the booth and walked out, not looking back. Harry saw the receipt today, which was marked with a simple heart and a “Hi”. Harry slid it into his front pocket, along with the $20 bill that was folded inside of it.

Harry quickly clocked out, ran out of the building, and puked once he went down the outside stairs. He did not want to deal with these emotions today, especially not with this guy, and especially not at work. He wiped his mouth with his kitchen towel and got into his car, blaring music as he sobbed behind the steering wheel.

Harry called out of work shift the next day. Anxiety had taken over his body in the middle of the night last night and Liam woke up to Harry vomiting in the bathroom next to his bedroom. 

“Y’alright?” Liam called out. Harry choked back a sob, and replied with a quiet, mumbled acknowledgment. 

“S’all good. I called out of work,” Harry replied back after he flushed the toilet. His face was immediately greeted by Liam’s as he exited the bathroom.

“I would’ve covered you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

With that, Liam turned around and went into his bedroom to get changed.

“Yeah, and I don’t want you get fired because you didn’t find coverage. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just… memories,” Harry sighed. Liam understood. He’s used that term before.

“And who brought up those memories?” Silence. “Harry.” More silence. “Tell me, Styles.”

“Just someone.” Harry looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“You were at work yesterday. Oh God, was it Mike?” Harry immediately shook his head and brushed away the thought that his manager would have caused this. “Another server? I swear, H, I’ll punch her. I don’t care if she’s a girl.” Harry shook his head again.

“Just some guy I served on again.”

Liam paused for a second, looking at his face with his eyes narrowed. “That guy?” Silence. “Har, if it’s that guy, I swear to God –” Liam started as he tied his apron around his waist and grabbed his keys.

“I’m fine, Li. Don’t worry.” Liam just nodded; Harry was never one to cause trouble or blame his emotions on others. He always was the one beating himself up over anything anyone said or did to him. “Really. Really fine.”

Liam left and rushed to work while Harry took a much needed mental health day, asleep, in his bed.

Two hours into his shift, Liam spotted a familiar face wander into the cafe, but couldn’t exactly place where from. He greeted him at the host stand.

“Hello, how many today?” Liam smiled, looking around to see where to seat him.

“Just me. Is Harry here?”

“No, who are you?”

“Louis.” And with that, Liam put down the menu, looked Louis dead in the eye, and punched him in the jaw.

“Get out of here, asshat,” Liam spat at him.

“What the fuck was that for, mate?” Louis replied quickly as he rubbed his jaw. Liam looked at him intensely, almost wishing for Louis to punch back.

“Don’t play games, you know what you did.” Except, Louis really didn’t know. He just nodded, turned around, and exited the restaurant. Of course, Liam went to the back and told Harry that he just showed up. No response from Harry, typical for him. Maybe, he was still sleeping, or maybe he is just keeping his reputation at being terrible at texting.

Liam came barreling through the door on the way home, still mad at Louis for making Harry relive his memories. 

“It was him, wasn’t it Haz? Tell me, it was him. Don’t tell me I punched an innocent guy,” Liam said, banging on Harry’s door.

“What did you do, Liam?” Harry asks as he cracks open his door.

“Fuckin’ blue eyes, man. It was him, right?” Harry just looked up at him silently for a moment.

“It’s not his fault. It’s not.” Harry swallowed thickly, not making eye contact with Liam anymore. Louis really didn’t deserve to be punched, he didn’t know any better.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Liam said harshly.

“He just asked when I came out, that’s all. I swear. He didn’t do anything, Li. That’s all.” Harry bit his lip.

“Fuck me, Styles. I thought he did something worse than that. Don’t regret the punch though. Nope.” 

“You should apologize, still. He’s a good guy. I think. I don’t know. He’s tipped me so much and he isn’t …. Well, he is weird, but he’s not like a bad weird. I don’t know. Just… apologize. For me,” Harry said as he reached into his bedside table and pulled out his phone number. “And give him my number.” 

Louis never texted back Liam or Harry. Harry went through thirteen more shifts without seeing Louis. He actually missed him a bit, much to his chagrin. He, of course, would never admit it. Something about the way Louis was mysterious in a sense and Harry missed it.

It was three weeks before Harry saw Louis again.


End file.
